~ Sunday April 4, 1813 ~
Five days had passed since Captain Boucetta and his crew were brought on board the Surety. Despite the so-called quarantine, I had managed daily visitations with the captain, who insisted I call him Duncan, under the watchful supervision of Matron Orwell and various lieutenants.
Although he was kind to me, the captain had proved a demanding patient, and he angered Matron Orwell right and proper after their first encounter. Following a private conversation I had with Lieutenant Colbert about my ability to put the restless captain at ease, he convinced Matron Orwell to allow me daily visitation if it would shut the heathen's filthy trap ̶ her words.
Today was Sunday, so I followed my regular routine of attending church service in the small space afforded the few who appreciated the comforting verses of Reverend Baxter. While his sermons were dry and less relevant than those of my dear friend Reverend Lawtey, it was better than having nothing at all. Some of us needed reassurance that we were here for a higher purpose.
When I arrived in the infirmary, Captain Boucetta sat on the edge of his cot. He had regained his strength and now filled out his shirt quite nicely. He appeared to be waiting for me, given that he stood as soon as I walked in. "I have been given permission by my jailor to walk the deck for some fresh air."
"Your jailor?" I glanced at the lieutenant in charge ̶ Davis I believe was his name, but Duncan jerked his thumb at Matron Orwell standing at the nurse's station counting vials. "Oh. Then we best hurry before she decides to give you another sleeping draught to shut you up."
I lowered my voice to keep the matron from overhearing, but Duncan let go a throaty laugh. "I do not know what I would do without you. I expect I would not have found my humour so soon."
We walked through the corridors with our lieutenant on our heels. The captain and his crew remained under constant supervision until their identities could be confirmed, which likely would not happen until we reached Europe again. The captain claimed they were privateers making their way to America to trade. Colonel Smith interpreted this as pirating, and he was not especially pleased that I was spending my idle time with a man who could turn out to be a murdering thief. I told the colonel that everyone deserved a chance to prove their worth. I received a laugh and a warning never to be left alone with the captain.
On deck, the sun felt hot on my neck as it neared the center of the sky, and we took up a position at the port side in the shade of the mainsail. The captain's demeanor improved significantly as he stood at the rail overlooking the sea, and I gave him ample time to go wherever his thoughts took him. After a few minutes, he shared some with me.
"I have a brother back home ̶ Sami. He loves the sea."
I blinked at his revelation and waited patiently for him to reveal more. This was the first Duncan had spoken of his family. I certainly wasn't going to bring them up. One of the first lessons my tutor taught me was never to broach the topic of family with strangers. You never knew what kind of trouble it could stir up.
"You remind me of him," he went on. "You have the same spark in your eyes. Like you have the answers to everything, but you want others to figure it out for themselves." He turned and smiled at me. "Your hair is also the same. The colour of wheat when the sun is setting."
"Thank you. It sounds like you care for you brother. You are blessed."
"When I left my home, my family was alive and well. If I am truly blessed, I will find them in the same condition when I return."
"Will you go home after the Surety makes port in Europe?"
He stared at the water for a while, and I watched a crease form in his brow. "It is what I should do. But I cannot say what will actually happen."
"I expect they miss you. When was the last time you saw them?"
"I set sail not long after Napoleon invaded Spain. My travels have taken me to many ports since then."
"That was nearly five years ago."
"Yes." He resumed his examination of the sea and that was all he said on the matter. We talked then of fishing, which he knew a great deal about, and how to prepare cod with lemon and capers. He had learned the recipe from a woman he'd met in Palermo.
That evening, I went to bed with visions of lemon trees while attempting to recreate the salty tang of capers. How I missed the food of London. After a restless sleep, I woke to the shrill ring of the ship's alarm and the sound of boots pounding past the door. I carefully raised my head to peer over my bunk just as Collette was doing the same.
"What in the flying flip is going on?" she croaked. "If it's the colonel putting us through more drills, I'm going to put a sleeping draught in his tea."
A man stuck his head into our barracks, shielding his eyes with his hand. "We've got smoke on the horizon. A distressed vessel off the port side. Casualties are expected."
"Is it one of ours?" someone called out.
"We're still too far out to tell. Should have sight of them before breakfast."
When the man had gone, the barracks came alive as nurses stumbled from their beds and rushed to the privy. Despite my sleep muddled brain, I dearly wished to join them. This was what they had trained for. They would finally make use of their specialized skills. While I was left to wait until the soiled linens piled up.
Once the mayhem died down and the barracks fell silent again, I realized my laundry comrades, Jasmine and Bernice, were asleep in their bunks. This did not surprise me. But I knew Gunther would be awake and preparing the tubs. I also knew I would not be able to find sleep again. So, I carefully climbed from my bunk and readied for the day.
Truthfully, I did not hate working in the laundry. I had come to see Gunther as a father figure. Or, perhaps, an irreverent uncle. He told madcap stories and never held back the curses. Between him and the two whores I shared duties with, there was never a dull moment.
As expected, I found Gunther standing over a tub of billowing steam, tipping a mug of coffee over his lips. When he saw me, he smiled. "What'r ye doin' up at this hour, Rosie?"
Oh, and he had taken to calling me Rosie, which I allowed because I liked him. "I knew I couldn't go back to sleep after all this hullabaloo. So, I thought I'd come in here and help you get things ready."
"There ain't much to get ready. Yer gonna regret not restin' when ye had the chance."
"I'll be fine. What can I do?"
He wiped a hand on his apron then rested it on his meaty hip as he glanced around the room. The place was set up like an obstacle course, with drying lines strung in all directions, washboards hanging from the ceiling, and a row of tubs forming ranks at the back of the room. The scent of lye crept into every corner, and my eyes were already watering.
"How 'bout you start measuring out the lye and ash? We'll need about 5 buckets to start."
"Will do, boss." I gave him a salute as I found my apron and gloves. The improper handling of toxic compounds could ruin a courtesan's career. One accidental splash in the face, and my complexion would turn as ruddy as Mistress Middleton's. Now, there was a name I hadn't thought of since leaving London. As I tied my apron, I wondered what the selfish witch was up to. Likely, she was trying to snatch my benefactors out from under me.
"What was that?" Gunther asked.
"What was what?"
"Sounded like you were calling someone a witch."
"Just thinking out loud. Hey, Gunther. Do you know what ship might be sending up smoke signals out there?" I spoke as I scooped ash into a bucket, counting in my head.
"We got plenty out to sea. Could be any of 'em. Maybe even an enemy ship. We won't know til we get there, I s'pose."
"If you had to guess, which of our ships might it be? I know the Pelican left port just a fortnight before we did."
"There's a good chance it's the Pelican." He said this like it was fact, and my stomach lurched. Why had I asked such a silly question? He already said we wouldn't know until we got there.
I shut my trap and continued my chores. Just as I was finishing up, Susie arrived in a breathless state. "Here you are. I've been looking all over for you. I guess I shoulda started here."
"Why are you looking for me?" I closed the lid on the last bucket and started removing my gloves.
"It's Captain Boucetta. He insists on seeing you right away."
"Why? Has he taken ill again?"
"No. Nothing like that. But he's not tellin' why. He says it's a private matter between you and him." She winked as she turned and left. Gunther chuckled behind me.
"You got yerself a pirate for an admirer. I don't know whether to be happy or worried for ye."
"There's no proof he's a pirate."
"Yet. Jes' be careful, Rosie. I'd hate to see a nice girl like you gettin' hurt."
Gunther had a gentle manner despite his burly size and off-putting smell; someone I'd want standing behind me in a fight but not relying on him to manage the fight for me. I made my way toward the infirmary, wondering what was so private that Duncan wanted it kept between me and him.
As I passed the office where Colonel Smith conducted his business, I overheard him speaking with his first lieutenant, Colbert, who happened to be the grandnephew of Admiral Pattison. The admiral was partially responsible for me being so far away from London searching foolishly for a captain I might or might not be in love with.
"...and the second plume appears to be retreating away from the Pelican, Sir. We suspect it's an American vessel withdrawing with her tail between her legs."
"That doesn't mean we won't be met with aggression. According to the Pelican's flag, they have wounded on board and have little to no means to move under their own power. I suspect we will both be sitting ducks out there while we manage the injured and tend to the vessel."
So, it was the Pelican stranded out at sea. I pressed my hand to my stomach, refusing to imagine Captain Thompson among the wounded.
"I will relay to the company that swift reconnaissance and retrieval is essential. You have trained us for this, Sir. We won't disappoint."
"Good man, Colbert. See that our female cadets remain below deck apart from those sent by Matron Orwell. We don't want them getting underfoot."
Getting underfoot? Indeed.
"I'll put Lieutenant Davis on it."
I heard footfalls and hurried out of listening range before I was caught eavesdropping. I had developed the terrible habit since becoming trapped on a ship with nothing else to occupy my mind except a field dressing guide and idle gossip. I had not made it far before Lieutenant Colbert's boots approached from behind.
"Mistress Hayes. I'm glad I ran into you."
"Hello, Lieutenant. It looks like you're in a hurry to go somewhere."
"That I am, but I have enough time to ask a favor of you."
"Oh? What is this favor, pray tell?"
"Colonel Smith wishes for all the females to remain below deck while we undertake this rescue. Those that aren't permitted by Matron Orwell, that is. You've heard of the rescue mission, I'm sure."
I nodded. "It is difficult to keep a secret on this ship."
He smiled. "Too right, you are. Can I trust you to tell all the women in the barracks and your comrades in the laundry to remain safe below deck while we manage things?"
What happened to Lieutenant Davis? Why had Colbert put the responsibility on me to give orders to these women? He knew nothing about their resentment toward me and how they viewed me as the lowliest of the ship's crew. Except Collette and Susie, of course. They had been true from the start.
I stuffed a grimace behind a tight smile. "You can count on me, Lieutenant."
He looked relieved. "I'm so glad you're in agreement. I didn't want to ask one of my men to do it. They complain when they're given such trivial assignments. I want them to like me."
"I thought a commanding officer was supposed to be feared," I offered demurely.
"I don't think that'll ever happen with this company. We've pulled too many stupid pranks together. Well, I need to rush off. Thank you, Mistress Hayes. And keep safe."
He hurried away at a gallop, and I lost sight of him as he rounded a corner. I didn't wish to make Captain Boucetta wait, but the news of the Pelican's dire situation had put a stitch in my side, and I was forced to navigate the corridors more slowly
A whirlwind of bodies hustled about the infirmary as I entered, and I ducked out of view of the nurse's station where Matron Orwell held counsel with several of my bunkmates. Duncan sat on his cot, looking anxious, while an armed lieutenant stood over him, looking annoyed.
"Ah, Rose!" Duncan stood as soon as he saw me, and the anxiety was replaced with a smile. "I fear I am being moved to a less hospitable place to make way for the injured, and I wanted to be sure we did not lose contact."
"That would never happen. Where are they moving you?"
"To the brig. Apparently, it is not as horrible as the Turks."
I turned to the lieutenant; a pimply, little twig of a boy who didn't look old enough to manage a pint. "Are we expecting that many wounded? The Surety is equipped to serve several hundred men."
"We aren't expecting that many, but the captain and his crew no longer need nursing, by order of Matron Orwell. And since we don't have a way of checking their credentials, there's no choice but to keep them under locked surveillance for the protection of the Surety's crew."
"I see. And I suppose that order came from the ship's admiral?"
"Yes, Mistress. The admiral is expecting me to see Captain Boucetta there now. So, if you two can get to your business..." His eyebrows rose, followed by a look of suspicion.
"If you would kindly cast-off and give us a minute of privacy," Duncan said with a scowl. "You can do your sworn duty as soon as Mistress Hayes and I have a word."
The lieutenant's face reddened. and I stepped toward him, speaking softly against his ear. "If Captain Boucetta repeats anything I deem threatening to the well-being of the Surety's crew and the king's royal navy, I promise to share it with you."
When I stepped back, I was surprised to find his face had gone even redder. Like a beet or a ripe plum. He managed to offer a somewhat tremulous nod before walking a few cots away. Duncan made no attempt to stifle his laughter, and I nudged his arm to stop him.
"Don't antagonize him, Duncan. The poor boy was just trying to do his duty."
"He was trying to suppress an erection."
My mouth unhinged, but this only had the captain laughing harder. He finally found his manners and tipped his hat politely. "That was improper. I apologize."
"Thank you. Now, what did you need to speak with me about?"
After a thorough appraisal of the infirmary, Duncan pulled his hat off fully and dug inside it. "Hold out your hand." I did as he asked, and he dropped the ruby pendant into it. Then he wrapped his hand around mine and closed it. "I want you to have this."
I stared at my hand, although the pendant could no longer be seen. "Oh, my. This is quite a lovely and unexpected gift. I don't think I feel comfortable taking charge of something so valuable."
"Aw, it is not so valuable. But it is meaningful to me. Which is why I want you to have it, because you have become meaningful...to me." A faint blush crept up his cheeks, and I felt the same thing happening to mine. "I have said this before ̶ you have brightened my dark situation. My ship, she is gone. My crew... so many were lost to the sea. I am sure I would have fell into a terrible despair had you not rescued me."
"We both know you are a stronger man than that, Duncan. But I am touched that you feel my presence has helped you recover more quickly. I have truly enjoyed our conversations."
"I hope they do not end here. I expect even prisoners are allowed visitors."
We both looked at the lieutenant, who had been glancing over his shoulder during our exchange. "Visitors need permission from Colonel Smith," he said.
"I am sure that will be no problem to arrange. I will visit you as soon as I am able." I tucked the pendant into my skirt pocket. Then I reached for Duncan's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. While his fingers bore the rough markers of a sailor, there was warmth in his touch. The others may have called him a pirate, but he was still a man.